Perspectives
by Reloj
Summary: Carefully detailed in the darkest of ebony inks, the arrangement had been permanently engraved in silk flesh with intricacy and precision.
1. Secret

Reluctantly, I'm daring to publish my old writings. I may or may not change the title later to something I find more suitable.

This will be a series of single-chapter stories; little perceptive windows into the characters of FMA. Because I am a romance-junkie, I will likely centralize the stories on prospective couples.

**Disclaimer: **Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa.

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**I. Secret **

The design of an alchemic transmutation circle was perhaps its most important part. Each drawing, each symbol, was representative of an element and a piece of nature. Each line and phrase was equally essential; the lines directed the flow of power, the phrases dictated the future of the transmutation.

The diagram of fire alchemy was fascinating, _powerful_.

And Professor Hawkeye knew this. He was a master of fire. He knew every detail, every significant aspect of fire alchemy. And all of his knowledge was compressed into a simple drawing. All of its information burned into his brain, drawn from his own research; he spent years and years exploring every aspect of the flame and its science, how to manipulate it, how enhance it, and how to control it.

Such a great secret could bring great destruction, and Professor Hawkeye knew this, too.

A master of flame alchemy would have in his hands the power of fire, the power to manipulate elements in the air and create benign sparks as well as menacing flames. This power was much too great for any simple man.

It was because Professor Hawkeye knew this that he decided to carve his teachings into skin. The secret of fire was burned into the sacred skin of his only daughter. It was a dermal documentation of the works of his mind. The power of destruction was carved on her back; she and only she held the possibility of creating the next Flame Alchemist.

And Riza Hawkeye knew this.

It was because Riza Hawkeye knew this that her choice was a man she trusted, a man with vision and determination; her father's apprentice. Because she recognized the power of her back and she believed she could place it in his, she exposed the secret of fire to this man, to help him ascend the steps of military autocracy and reach his dream. She had handed him every design, every figure, every symbol, every phrase that would give life to fire.


	2. INRI

I was half-asleep while I wrote this; it seems I'm more productive at night, haha.

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**II. INRI**

The snap of his fingers triggered something unholy; fire like the one surely blazing in the deepest of the depths below the earth, a place he surely knew he'd end up one day, despite the inconsistency of such thoughts to his general belief -- that there was no God, thus no Heaven nor Hell. He unleashed the fire with another snap; once, twice, three times, each one taking their toll on his body and his conscience.

His skill was impeccable.

His guilt was unbearable.

His sins were indefensible.

And his redemption was unreachable.

His fire led to the end of life, never its birth, and he played with indifference in hopeless attempts to atone. The futility of these false ideals slowly crushed his insides, from which self-loathing grew. In his eyes rested the vision of his element's arrangement, of destruction and death, and it engraved itself within the deepest corners of his mind, meant to appear at every snap of his finger, to haunt him until his demise, to accompany him to his grave.

There was no light to the memory of this horror, only a quiet whisper in the depths of his mind sufficed to calm him. A feathery voice that reached his depths, releasing words that would insufficiently give him an honest sense of relief.

_"If not in our lifetime, than at least so that the future generation can." _

Then, somehow, his impeccable skill was unjustified.

His unbearable guilt, overridden.

His unpardonable sins, forgiven.

And that unreachable redemption, attained.

But through that light in his darkness, through that relief in his midst of torment, the image of his teachings returned four words that tattooed themselves in his vision:

_Igne Natura Renovatur Integra _

Through fire, nature is reborn whole.


	3. Seed

**III. Seed**

All men had a weakness, and although Colonel Mustang never admitted to one, he recognized his own fears. But he could not show them, because one was only as strong as their weakest point, and showing the slightest bit of weakness was unacceptable.

His weakness was most heavily pronounced after the death of Maes Hughes. All who saw it never commented a word. All who took notice of his anger and silent desperation to find the murderer of his best friend withheld their words and kept their judgments inside, including his most loyal subordinates.

He buried his weakness, but the compilation of the events that surrounded him fed the earth that covered his weakness and it grew, until it sprouted branches and leaves, becoming a tall tree large enough to be noticed by his higher-ups. His weakness grew obvious – his weakness _was_ obvious, it was always beside or behind him, watching or guarding his back.

This little seed had been planted and fed for years, and its growth was inevitable. He often wished that he could be stronger, so that he could burn down the tree, and thus the evidence of his weakness. But how could he? _Why_ would he? Even if he burned down every single leaf and every single plant cell, the earth below him would still nourish the seed that he could never get rid of.


	4. The Alchemist and the Human

Note: I don't remember whatever I might have been taught regarding the structure of poems, so...

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**IV. The Alchemist and the Human**

.**  
**

The alchemist plays with chemistry;

the human plays with life

The alchemist searches for truth,

like the human

Both the alchemist and the human create;

they bring their world from itself,

fabricating from nature,

plucking the strings of reality

to create a simple symphony

to which there is no end

that either one could see;

The human knows no boundaries,

the alchemist walks on borders

Both know that to cross would mean death,

but neither truly comprehend

the music and the science of life

yet, both continue to play

because the alchemist,

because the human

exist.


	5. Memento Vivere, Memento Mori

**V. Memento Vivere, Memento Mori **

"_Don't die._"

Two words that to Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang implied the significance of each other's existence, serving as their anthem; their temporary goodbye. They did, however, still recognize the impossibility of them ever truly conceding to "Don't die" because they were well aware of the possibility of death for both of them.

Roy often drifted between thoughts of life and death, occasionally retrospecting those moments when self-loathing overshadowed every corner of his mind, where death was only the pull of a trigger away. He felt it right there, he was so close, and he knew that his life was worth taking, unlike those of his thousands of victims.

But he dropped his hand after hearing the anthem, later calling himself a coward.

Riza's life was on that "coward", on his dream and his own life. Had he taken it away, she would have thrown away the promise of their anthem, and neither would have succeeded in consenting to "Don't die", or better yet, dying without even having _attempted_ to climb the steps towards a dream and protecting it.

So, in the name of devotion, duty, and perhaps something more, they would engrave the thought of life in their memory, attached to the thought of death. And the anthem would remain by their side, reverberating like a perpetual echo.


End file.
